“Do I understand correctly that the lieutenant was the Barrayaran security liaison officer aboard the Idris ?” Miles said. Fleet beat cop, charged with maintaining peace and order among crew and passengers, keeping an eye out for any illegal or threatening activities or suspicious persons—not a few historic hijackings were inside jobs—and being first line of defense in counterintelligence. More quietly, keeping an ear out for potential disaffection among the Emperor's Komarran subjects. Obliged to render all possible assistance to the ship in physical emergencies, coordinating evacuation or rescue with the military escort. Liaison officer was a job that could shift from yawningly boring to lethally demanding in an eyeblink.

Captain Brun spoke for the first time. “Yes, my lord.”

Miles turned to him. “One of your people, was he? How would you describe Lieutenant Solian?”

“He was newly assigned,” Brun answered, then hesitated. “I did not have a close personal acquaintance with him, but all his prior personnel evaluations gave him high marks.”

Miles glanced at the cargomaster. “Did you know him, sir?”

“We met a few times,” said Molino. “I mostly stayed aboard the Rudra , but my impression of him was that he was friendly and competent. He seemed to get along well with crew and passengers. Quite the walking advertisement for assimilation.”

“Excuse me?”

Vorpatril cleared his throat. “Solian was Komarran, my lord.”

“Ah.” Argh . The reports hadn't mentioned this wrinkle. Komarrans were but lately permitted admittance into the Barrayaran Imperial Service; the first generation of such officers was handpicked, and on their marks to prove their loyalty and competence. The Emperor's pets , Miles had heard at least one Barrayaran fellow-officer describe them in covert disgruntlement. The success of this integration was a high personal priority of Gregor's. Admiral Vorpatril certainly knew it, too. Miles moved the mysterious fate of Solian up a few notches in his mental list of most-urgent priorities.